


Fighting Fish

by Mogseltof



Series: The Ethics of Design and Manufacture [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Apologies, Arguments, Doing Better, F/F, Friends to Exes to Partners, Getting Back Together, Human AU, Humanformers, Kissing, Ladyformers, Making Up, New Relationship, Promises, Relationship Evolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26649937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: I'm not above apologies but I don't ask permissionsGot a lot of imperfections but I don't carry my ambition in them“How can you have broken up with me?” said Starscream snidely as she raised her glass again. “We were never dating.”In the same way you and I aren’t dating?replied Wheeljack’s own voice in her ears and she shut her eyes, jaw clenching. Goddamnit.
Relationships: Starscream/Wheeljack (Transformers)
Series: The Ethics of Design and Manufacture [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1273442
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Fighting Fish

Wheeljack was a master of caving to her stupider impulses.

The problem was that she always had to be _sure_. Check every pathway, poke every supporting structure—great habit for an engineer, making sure the whole damn thing wasn’t going to collapse on top of you. Bad for her social life. And dating life. And basically every networking event she’d ever attended in her professional life.

She glanced from the keys in her hand to Starscream’s door. Starscream hated being poked at. Wheeljack had picked Starscream’s lock a grand total of twice, both times the end result of being sufficiently worried by the contents of her voicemail, and yet Starscream had seen fit to have a key cut for her. No wonder she’d called Wheeljack stupid.

She really shouldn’t be here. You picked your friend’s lock when you were worried about alcohol poisoning and self-harm behaviours, that was a boundary Wheeljack was just fine with crossing. _Keys_ on the other hand, were things you were supposed to give back after a break-up. Friends checked on you when you were hurting, not your ex—exes. Shit, maybe she should just go back and put the key in the letterbox.

Starscream didn’t have friends who checked on her, though. And since they’d started talking Wheeljack had never had this kind of radio silence from her, even when she was pissed off. She’d been blocked, though. She’d been blocked by women she’d been fucking before and chasing further contact was always a mistake. Wheeljack sighed and put the key in the door, turning it. Starscream was a thorough woman when she went nuclear; ten to one the locksmith had already come and gone.

The door swung open in front of her and Wheeljack froze, eyes widening as the bright kitchen opened up in front of her.

Starscream was staring at her from her open fridge, looking about as surprised as Wheeljack felt. She was barefoot, head turned, work clothes crumpled with a long day’s wear with her sleeves pushed past her elbow in that rare relaxed Friday night look. She’d cut her hair, blunt dark locks brushing her cheeks instead of her shoulders now.

“Huh,” said Wheeljack blankly as Starscream’s face started going through the motions of changing from surprise to anger. “I thought you’d’ve changed the lock.”

The silence hung heavy in the distance between them for a moment that went on too long, and then Starscream slammed her fridge door shut with a clattering of glass of glass. “An oversight, apparently!” she snapped, stalking across the kitchen with one manicured fist flexing and clenching by her side. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Good question. “Uh,” said Wheeljack, desperately reaching for an answer. “I, I wanted to check in?”

“If I wanted you to ‘check in’ I’d unblock your number!” said Starscream, eyes narrowing, her mouth an angry slash of red lipstick as she halted on the other side of the door in front of Wheeljack. “Can’t you take a hint? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I, yeah, I just,” started Wheeljack and she stopped, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose before exhaling deeply. It took a second to get her thoughts in order and she straightened up again, looking Starscream in the eye. “I’m sorry for showing up like this, I just. Wanted to clear the air. Can I come in?"

“Absolutely not,” was the immediate answer. Starscream crossed her arms over her chest, glare intensifying. “Whatever the hell it is you have to say you can say it from there.”

“Right, god forbid we talk like adults,” said Wheeljack reflexively.

“Fuck you,” snapped Starscream, her stance shifting aggressively. “You don’t get to condescend to me like that, I was the one who was fucking trying, you just—”

“I just what? Had boundaries?” snapped Wheeljack, suddenly frustrated. “Realistic expectations? An ability to say what I want directly and out loud?”

That… hadn’t been how she wanted to address that.

“You are one of the densest women I have ever met,” said Starscream coldly, reaching for the door. “I’d tell you to have a nice life, but frankly I hope you choke.”

“I didn’t mean that,” said Wheeljack, trying to reign in her impatience a little. 

Starscream’s lip curled as she pulled the key out of her lock and started working it off Wheeljack’s key ring. It wasn’t a pretty smile. “Yes you did. God forbid I experience an emotion like some kind of _child.”_

Nice to know she hadn’t lost her sense of humour.

“That’s not—we had _lines,”_ said Wheeljack, distracted by Starscream’s shiny red nails tugging the key round the ring in brisk motions. “I’m not a hints kind of person, you know I need—”

“You need? How nice,” said Starscream in that same, bloodless tone, as she reached up and started to push the door shut. “Good night.”

Wheeljack kicked her foot out, catching the door before it shut and leaning forward to stop it from closing.

Starscream’s fingers tightened on the door and when she spoke it was conversational. “I _will_ break your foot if you really want me to.”

“I will fuck off I promise, but you need to give me my keys back,” said Wheeljack evenly.

“What, these keys?” said Starscream, shaking the key ring with a jangling noise. “They were in my lock; I think that makes them _my_ keys.”

A tiny voice in the back of Wheeljack’s head started shrieking as it added up the cost of replacing each key on the ring. And the key ring itself which, okay, had only been a couple of bucks but Wheeljack didn’t know the next time she’d even be in that museum gift shop—“Starscream I need you to give me my keys back.”

“No, locksmiths exist. You _want_ me to give you your keys back,” drawled Starscream, jutting her hip out, eyes narrowing in the gap between door and frame.

“Fine you pedantic bitch, I _want_ my keys back so I’m not out several hundred bucks just to get to home so give them _back.”_ Starscream was pressing the door shut on Wheeljack’s foot and she leaned her shoulder heavily into the door to alleviate the pressure.

“Ask me nicely,” said Starscream, sugary sweet tone ruined by the gritting of her teeth as she pushed back against Wheeljack. “Like a fucking adult.”

“Are we really doing this?” asked Wheeljack, wedging her foot more firmly into the door. “Really? Fucking— _please_ give me my keys back!”

“That wasn’t nice!” Starscream’s teeth were bared in a wide grimace, the door wobbling between them.

Wheeljack huffed, laying her hand flat on the door to brace herself. “What do you want me to do? Beg?”

She stumbled, the resistance under her shoulder disappearing as Starscream yanked the door open all of a sudden. Her non hip-holding arm was stretched out to hold the door open, filling the frame. “That would be a good start.”

Wheeljack could feel her temples start to throb softly and she took a deep breath. Being on the receiving end of Starscream’s unbelievable pettiness was about a thousand percent less funny than watching it inflicted on other people. She squared her shoulders and looked her dead in the eye, mustering all the sincerity she could; Starscream liked to make people _eat_ their pride, it would go better if she just swallowed her ego and got it over with. “Starscream. I’m sorry I showed up here unannounced and I’m sorry I hurt you. My keys are very important and I need them, can I please have them back?”

Starscream’s eyes were slits, red lips curling back up slowly as Wheeljack spoke. _“Begging_ typically involves a little less dignity,” she said slowly, her tone all dangerous silk.

Wheeljack cracked. “What, okay? What do you want me to do? Cry a little? Get some snot in there? Prostrate myself? Get on my knees with clasped damn hands?”

Starscream arched an eyebrow expectantly.

Wheeljack let what she’d just said sink in and scowled, bracing one hand on the door frame as she clumsily sank to her knees. A muscle in her thigh twinged with the promise of a cramp and the thin carpet of the hallway did exactly nothing to cushion her knees from the hard concrete underneath. “Starscream!” she started, gritting her teeth as she glared up at her. “I am _begging_ you—”

“Look,” said someone conversationally and Wheeljack and Starscream both immediately swivelled their heads to the right. A stocky woman in a pink bomber jacket was giving them a peevish look from the next door down, groceries in one arm, keys in hand. “I get it. We’re all into weird shit. Can you get into your weird shit _inside_ the damn apartment?”

“Try minding your own fucking business!” snapped Starscream, glaring down the hall at her neighbour.

She rolled her eyes and slid her key into her door, Wheeljack watching her with a resigned thread of amusement cutting through the momentary embarrassment. Probably served her right for letting her temper—Starscream’s hand grabbed her shoulder, derailing her train of thought as the surprisingly strong hand pulled her forward.

Wheeljack stumbled forward to climb to her feet as Starscream slammed the door shut behind them and they froze, staring at each other under the too-bright halogens in Starscream’s kitchen. The muscles in Starscream’s face tightened, her mouth thinning, and she spun on one foot to stalk over to the counter, dropping Wheeljack’s keys with a clatter against the polished stone.

Wheeljack slowly straightened, rubbing her shoulder where Starscream had grabbed her. It didn’t hurt, but she could still feel the warmth of her hand through the thin fabric.

“Happy now?” said Starscream icily, picking up a half full glass and taking a sip, back still turned.

Wheeljack took a moment to answer, unsure of what to say and falling back on her standby of being honest. “No.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” Starscream slammed the glass back down on the counter, white knuckle grip on it as she turned to glare at her. “I don’t _want_ you here!”

“Yeah I got that,” said Wheeljack, shifting on the spot, unsure of what to do with her hands. “I told you, I—”

“You what? Wanted to check in? To _clear the air?”_

“Yeah—”

“Wheeljack, the air between us is _abundantly_ clear,” said Starscream, her eyes staring daggers. “Because there is _nothing_ in it, and if there was at one point there isn’t anymore! You made patently fucking sure of that!”

Starscream’s voice rose uncomfortably on the last few syllables and Wheeljack winced. This was…probably a bigger mistake than she’d initially thought. “Right,” she said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.”

Starscream sneered, her expression as ugly as her tone. “Of course you are, now you actually have to look at me wh—”

“I’m not trying to apologise for breaking up with you,” said Wheeljack flatly, crossing the kitchen and picking up her keys. “I’m sorry for coming here when I should have known better.”

“How can you have broken up with me?” said Starscream snidely as she raised her glass again. “We were never dating.”

It felt like it echoed. _‘In the same way you and I aren’t dating?’_ replied Wheeljack’s own voice in her ears and she shut her eyes, teeth grinding. God _damn_ it.

“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“In the restaurant, I shouldn’t have said that we couldn’t date,” said Wheeljack, forcing herself to open her eyes and meet Starscream’s gaze, fingers clenching and unclenching around the keys in her hand. “It came out because it was something we said when we started fucking and I didn’t realise you’d started thinking of me like that. I’m sorry. We would have been good for it, for what it’s worth.”

If any of that threw her off balance Starscream didn’t show it, taking another drink from her gin and setting the glass down with a grimace. “ _Would_ we.”

“What,” said Wheeljack, rubbing at her face. “You regret asking me to go more serious bec—”

“How could I _not?”_

“Not what I meant!” she snapped, her hand waving sharply away from her face as though gesticulating could explain. “Okay? This _is_ me trying to apologise for that. I am telling you that you were right, that an actual relationship is something I, I wanted, and that I was wrong.”

“You were, yes,” said Starscream, eyes narrowing as she watched Wheeljack, arms crossed over her chest. “And you ruined it for the both of us.”

“Great! Again, I’m sorry, all of this was a mistake, and I’m going to go now. Windblade finalised the last meeting with your office, so you don’t ever have to see my face again, I’ll get out of your hair,” said Wheeljack, raising her hand at Starscream and heading for the door with long strides.

“What, that’s all you’ve got?”

“Yeah, well, you already burned your one shot at making me beg on my knees,” said Wheeljack, grasping the door handle.

“I seem to recall you being perfectly happy to be on your knees in here on previous occasions,” said Starscream, seemingly unable to keep herself from cattiness.

Wheeljack let her hand fall from the door handle and resisted the urge to thump her head against the wood, instead unclenching her jaw and looking back at Starscream. “Yeah, I was. And you know what, Starscream? Being happy with the way things are _isn’t_ a _crime._ It’s okay to _like_ what you’re doing with people! I was comfortable and I wasn’t expecting a change of pace and you already fit into a bunch of the ‘inappropriate to date’ boxes—”

“I fit _boxes!”_ snarled Starscream, stepping away from where she was leaning on the bench, fingers curling to form quote marks up by her chest. “What _kind_ of boxes are you putting me in exactly?”

“Oh for crying out—” Wheeljack stepped away from the door, her hands flying up as well as she fully turned back to address her. “Boxes like women who say we _shouldn’t date!_ Women who I work with—women who _hire_ me to work with them! Hell, women who judge how I dress, or who are rude to waiters!”

Starscream’s volume was rising and Wheeljack barely noticed. “Oh, I’m undateable because I’m _rude to waiters?”_

“It is the lowest bar for human decency and you fail to meet it!” snapped back Wheeljack, starting to gesture again with the barest awareness of what her arm was doing. “I have fucked a lot of assholes in my time, Starscream, I try not to make myself actively responsible for them in my daily life, and, and _that’s_ the only thing that trips you up? That I think you’re an _asshole?_ You already _know_ that—”

“I already know you think I’m good enough to fuck but not to date, that doesn’t mean you _double down—”_

“I don’t think that!”

“Then why would you _say_ it!”

“Because it’s not what I _fucking meant!”_ Wheeljack felt a little too close to tearing her own hair out, the distance between her and Starscream somehow both too far and not far enough. “You are _incredible_ , working with you was something else, I was only just getting used to us being _social_ much less figuring out—”

Starscream scoffed loudly, incredulous. “I’m sorry, a full _year_ of sleeping together and I was moving _too fast_ for you?”

“You didn’t _say anything!”_ Wheeljack yelled back, feeling like her whole body was in on the motion. “You know me, you know how I am! I need clear communication not coded hints!”

“What, you need a time-stamped itinerary to _get dinner_ with the woman you’re fucking, but someone you are working with professionally can make two and half flimsy innuendos and you’ll just shuck your pants right there in front of your office desk—” Starscream advanced a step, finger out accusingly.

Wheeljack was already shaking her head. “I _told_ you, office romance is—”

“Oh, but office _sex_ isn’t?”

“Oh my _god_ , it’s about the emotional entanglement, Starscream, sex doesn’t always—”

Starscream somehow managed to look even more frustrated at that, scowl deepening as she threw her arm out to her side. “And you said it yourself, our professional relationship is ov—was ending so why does that _even_ matter!”

“You’re the one who brought it up!” cried Wheeljack, exasperation filling every inch of her. “Oh my god, I am trying to _leave_ , why are you arguing with me like you’re trying to convince me to stay?”

Starscream was almost vibrating, standing just far enough away that Wheeljack wouldn’t quite be able to touch her if she reached out. “And why the hell do you want to leave so badly?”

“Because you don’t _want_ me here! You _said_ so! With your _mouth!”_

After the back and forth the silence was ringing enough that Wheeljack finally realised how _loud_ they’d been. Distantly she hoped that Starscream’s soundproofing was as good as she said it was; apartment soundproofing was never going to be as hardcore as distinct houses or units, though, that neighbour was probably regretting telling them to get inside by now—

Starscream was staring at her, lips parted slightly as she squinted at Wheeljack. “Because I _said—”_

“Yes!” said Wheeljack immediately, trying to be more conscious of her volume. “Believe it or not, I’m not actually trying to upset you! I didn’t come here to pick a fight—you don’t want me here, so why would I hang around and make things worse?”

“And why wouldn’t you try to make things better?” snapped Starscream.

…It was Wheeljack’s turn to squint. She shifted, rubbing at her face again, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she looked. Starscream’s expression was unreadable, her fingers flexing at her side. Wheeljack chewed the inside of her cheek, mind racing for a few long seconds, before she gave up. “Okay, Starscream? I am _actually_ begging you now: will you please tell me, directly and to the point, what it is you want me to do here?”

“What I want you to do here?” said Starscream quietly, and then it was like she’d blown her last pressure valve, fuse burnt all the way to the end, last circuit blown, batten down the hatches. “What I want you to _do_ here is I want you to _understand_ me! I want you to admit that you _want_ me! _Properly!_ I want you to _tell_ me—to, to _actually_ beg for me with how much you want me so I can throw it back in your _fucking_ face and then I want you to take me on a _fucking_ date! That is what I _want,_ Wheeljack! So if you’re going to _leave,_ then fucking _leave_ already!”

“Okay,” said Wheeljack, tucking her hands into her pockets and nodding. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Starscream’s mouth had opened when Wheeljack had started speaking, but she’d paused halfway to speaking, looking like she’d swallowed something that severely disagreed with her. Her eyes narrowed, the muscles around her mouth twitching as she geared herself up. Wheeljack girded her loins and plunged onwards, pretending she couldn’t tell how angry she’d made her. The bluff might work; she usually couldn’t with other people.

“And, just to be clear, I’m asking you to go on a date with an intention to more dates afterwards and discussion about starting a relationship that’s, y’know, romantically inclined instead of professional,” she said in her best, airy, lecture-explanation tone that she usually saved for when she needed to explain her train of thought and explain it right _now_ before she lost her contract, if you please. “Because I want to, and because I want _you_ . Because I am attracted to you and I _do_ enjoy spending time with you and I want to do more of that, and I also want to see what kind of relationship we could build, if you’d want.”

Starscream’s expression was more mulish now, her mouth clamped shut with the faintest quiver. Her eyes were still narrowed though and her jaw was twitching the way it did when she was about to deliver something _particularly_ damning, so Wheeljack sped up a little.

“And if you really want to throw this back in my face, well, I can’t stop you, and it will hurt me, because I _do_ still have feelings for you even though I really didn’t think I’d get a go at this after last time, but I trust you and I have for a while now, and it’s important to me, so, if you do throw this back in my face, I’m going to _believe_ you. And I _will_ leave, and I will stop bothering you. So, yeah.” Wheeljack shrugged with her hands still in her pockets, an awkward bowing movement Ratchet had always made fun of her for because of the way her elbows poked out when she did it.

The lines around Starscream’s eyes had softened, making her whole face seem a little rounder, and she didn’t answer for a few moments. “Fuck you,” she whispered eventually, voice hoarse.

“Yeah, I know,” said Wheeljack quietly. “Terrible timing and bad at subtext. Warned you when we met, didn’t I?”

“You’re definitely both of those,” said Starscream, her voice picking up a little as she stepped forward, holding herself unnaturally still. “Asking me out now. Even though I’m an asshole you don’t want to spend time around.”

“You’re an asshole I want to spend more time around,” corrected Wheeljack, slowly spinning her keyring inside her pocket as she watched Starscream carefully, trying to pick up anything from her expression or body language and failing miserably. “Because I think we’re compatible flavours of asshole, and I think we might be able to be lesser assholes in the future.”

“Rather than _un_ -compatible assholes who can’t date,” said Starscream, her tone even and almost conversational. “Compatible even if you won’t ask me again after it’s my turn to turn you down?”

“You have your lines, I have mine,” said Wheeljack, trying to match her tone as best she could. “My own rule. I take no for an answer when I get one.”

“Even when it’s distinctly unfair?” said Starscream, arching an eyebrow at her. She appeared to have regained some composure. Wheeljack wasn’t a hundred percent certain that boded well for her.

“I don’t like relationships where I’m supposed to keep track of who’s winning,” she settled on eventually. “They never end well, y’know?”

“I’m aware,” said Starscream, mild for all of the weight of their shared late nights hanging on the words.

“Insinuations haven’t gotten us anywhere. I think we can do better, by, well, talking about things for real,” said Wheeljack, completely unable to restrain her impulse to explain herself once she’d let it off the leash. Starscream did this a lot; that _thing_ where she’d say something that wasn’t really an answer and nothing else so that the other person would feel compelled to say something meaningful to fill the silence and Wheeljack fell for it _every damn time._ “I _want_ to do better, with you, on the same page this time.”

“You know I like winning,” said Starscream, but she sounded faintly amused.

“I know—” said Wheeljack and then Starscream’s hand was resting on her bicep.

“So were you asking me out to give me something I want? A little pity win so I could get my score off you and we could both go on our way?”

Wheeljack gave up trying to figure out if there was danger in Starscream’s tone or not. “I just said that I don’t like relationships where—”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I asked because I wanted to,” said Wheeljack slowly. “Because I thought I’d missed my chance, and then you said that you wanted me to, and that meant that I was…allowed to? Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little lost now, can you please tell me to fuck off or—”

Starscream’s lips were sticky with sickly sweet gin.

Wheeljack brought her hand up automatically, but hesitated before she could touch the side of Starscream’s neck as their lips parted, and she said, helplessly: “No, I mean with words—”

“I like winning, so it had better be a _damn_ good date, you understand?” said Starscream, covering Wheeljack’s hand with her own and closing the gap between their skin.

Wheeljack nodded, her tongue darting out to touch her lips, and she rubbed her thumb in a small, quick circle at the edge of Starscream’s jaw. “Flowers, huh?”

“Hand-holding!” snapped Starscream, her grip tightening a little. “And paying attention!”

“And communication?” suggested Wheeljack, not quite able to stop herself in time.

“That too,” said Starscream, sounding a little more like her regular, snippy, self.

Wheeljack smiled slightly. “I think that’s a good itinerary to start off with, then, don’t you?”

Starscream swallowed as she nodded. Her lips parted slightly, eyes glancing down as her mouth worked silently.

Wheeljack waited, not entirely certain what she was going to say next.

“Stay,” said Starscream, clipped as she brought her eyes back up and grimacing at the sound of it. “Just. For a little while. Please.”

“Yeah,” said Wheeljack and she leant in, pressing her forehead against Starscream’s. “I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dessa song found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U13DaFJq8ls (alternate summary quote: _"You can touch my metal with a magnet and some tin snips/Ink test all I see is cannons and some wing tips"_ this entire song is Starscream fodder I love it)
> 
> Aaaand we did it! Finished! *confetti* Hope you had as much fun as I did! More robot yelling @mogseltof on tumblr/twitter/wherever if you so desire as per usual. Thank you for riding along with me on this little AU adventure, it's been a ball.


End file.
